


This Modern Love

by Mystrana



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew POV, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Brief references to canon abuse, College!AU, First Kiss, Getting Together, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Neil Doesn't Date TM, Pining, Romance, angsty masturbation, mixtape exchange, no exy, tinder as a plot device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29011473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystrana/pseuds/Mystrana
Summary: Andrew's been bartending for a few years now. He's pretty good at reading people. So when Matt brings his roommate Neil out, Andrew's pretty sure he knows the score. Neil's scorching hot, but there's something dark in his eyes that Andrew recognizes.So Andrew keeps an eye on Neil. Chaos follows.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 42
Kudos: 429
Collections: AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2021





	This Modern Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cydonic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cydonic/gifts).



> This fic was written with Bloc Party’s “This Modern Love” on repeat in the background for Cydonic for the 2021 AFTG Mixtape exchange! The song is the epitome of Andreil; from the longing tone of the singer, to the back and forth of the music, to the lyrics. Oh my gosh, the lyrics. They’re so perfectly Andreil! I thought about several different directions to take this fic based on all of the different parts, and came up with this, written while I wrapped myself up in the song. I hope you all enjoy it! :) 
> 
> Thank you kindly to Coop for the beta!

Andrew was serving a colorful mixed drink to a tipsy frat guy when Matt Boyd--overly talkative, friendly, decent--came in, dragging someone along who Andrew had never seen before. The newcomer had tousled auburn hair and an expression of general contempt for the room.

Andrew approved.

“Roland!” Matt called out, with a friendly wave at Andrew’s bartender-in-crime. They clapped hands and grinned at each other.

“Good to see you!” Roland glanced at the newcomer by Matt’s side, sizing him up. “And who’s this?”

“This is Neil,” Neil said. “Matt’s roommate and here against my will.”

Andrew's approval of Neil’s words nearly brought a smirk to his lips, but he kept busy mixing drinks for his side of the bar and favored Neil with a side glance instead. Neil was unquestionably hot, just a few inches taller than Andrew with a wiry, strong build only partially hidden by his oversized t-shirt and faded jean shorts. Whenever Neil pushed his messy hair to the side, it kept falling back across his eyes. 

And those eyes. Andrew paused between mixing drinks and took a whole moment to study them. They were endlessly blue and hid deep-seated wariness. Andrew only knew that last part because seeing Neil's eyes was like looking in the mirror.

The other curiosity was the scars on Neil's face; a couple of faint cuts on one cheek and a patch of uneven skin on the other, possibly from a bad burn. His exposed forearms had scars in an almost pattern of slashes and circles. Neil looked like the kind of guy who didn’t seek out trouble. Trouble probably found Neil.

Roland handed Matt a beer. "What are you having?" he asked Neil.

"I don't drink."

Roland raised an eyebrow at Matt. 

Matt grimaced, scratching behind his head. "Ok, look, I was just trying to get him out, try to help him make a few friends. I may have miscalculated." 

"You drink water, kid?" Roland teased Neil, and Neil shrugged. Roland took that as an answer and poured him a tumbler of water from the tap.

"Only the finest!" Matt laughed, putting his money down in exchange for their drinks. "Thanks, Roland."

Roland nodded and turned to take care of the others at the bar. Despite the increase of customers, Andrew worked his way closer to see what Matt and Neil were doing. For someone who claimed to be here under coercion, Neil sat calmly in the bar stool and watched the crowd without any tension in his shoulders.

When he followed Neil’s eyes around the room, Andrew realized he’d already mapped the exits, found them acceptable, and was studying the people with the same level of detail. And damn if that didn't make Andrew even more interested. 

"No, it's not the worst evening of my life," Neil was saying to Matt. Andrew listened even as he took an order for a tray of beers and cocktails.

Matt gestured towards the sizable dance floor to the side of the bar. It was a bit early, but a throng of people had already started dancing to the songs Roland had queued up. "We can hit the dance floor, scope things out,” he suggested.

Neil shrugged, his expression completely neutral. “I don’t really dance.” 

When Matt put his face in his hands, Andrew saw Neil’s smirk emerge. 

Oh. Oh yeah, Neil was going to be a problem.

“Ok, ok,” Matt said, looking back up just as Neil rearranged his face into that same bored expression. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have forced you to come out. I just never see you bring any friends to the room. Or go out beside classes. I wasn’t saying you need to befriend everyone, but maybe just… one friend.”

Neil leaned back against the bar, and whatever he said next was blurred by the guy in front of Andrew thanking him for the tray of drinks. Andrew nodded, pushing the tray towards him, collecting the money the guy put on the bar, and heading over towards Neil and Matt.

“Hey,” Andrew said, popping Neil on the back of the head. “Don’t lean on my bar.”

Matt blinked at Andrew, and Neil turned with his mouth open to tell Andrew off.

“Who ever heard of not being able to lean against a bar?" Neil favored Andrew with an incredulous glare.

Secretly pleased that he’d gotten a reaction from Neil, Andrew fixed Neil with a bored look of his own. “Maybe the less than stellar establishments you’ve frequented in the past don’t mind dents, divots, smudges, and damage to their bartop, but Roland and I take pride in what’s ours.”

Matt was still looking from Andrew to Neil like he had no clue what was going on, which was fair. Matt probably had leaned against the bar a time or ten in the years that he’d been coming here, and Andrew wondered if he’d defend Neil by saying so.

“I didn’t come here to be pushed around by a tiny barkeep,” Neil said before Matt could say anything. “Get another drink, Matt. Get three.” He made a show of looking past Andrew. “Where’s Roland? I need another water.”

Andrew didn’t reward Neil’s bratty little act with an external reaction. Internally, he would admit there was a (stupid) part of him that wanted to pull Neil up over the bar and kiss him to shut him up. The majority of him, reasonably so, wanted to show Neil to the door. He could imagine the little “o” of surprise Neil would make with his mouth when Andrew came around the bar, picked him up, and took him outside with no difficulty. If Neil wanted to call him tiny, he’d show him exactly what he was capable of.

Except then, in this line of thought, Neil would be so impressed with Andrew’s strength that he’d lean in and kiss him, and--

“Roland’s busy,” Andrew ground out. 

Matt ran his hand through his gelled spikes, until they stood up even taller. “Ok,” he said, choosing to play negotiator. “Can I just get another beer?”

Andrew considered his options before nodding curtly. He handed the beverage to Matt without a word, took Matt’s money, and kept his stare on Neil, daring him to ask for a cup of water.

He should have known that Neil wasn’t about to back down from such an obvious challenge.

“Water,” Neil said. “On the rocks.” And then he had the audacity to grin, like he’d made a funny joke.

Worse, Matt had the audacity to laugh, like Neil had made a funny joke.

Andrew rolled his eyes and got Neil a cup of water. With three perfectly sized ice cubes.

He couldn’t ignore the fact that Roland was starting to fall behind on orders, so Andrew left Matt and Neil to their own devices and threw himself into his work. 

Andrew picked up bartending his freshman year, after his cousin Nicky had gotten him a job working as a barback for Roland his senior year of high school. He liked the steady pace of the job, the way that mixing drinks and taking orders meant absorbing a lot of information in a short period of time and moving with dexterity and precision. 

In other words, it kept his brain busy enough to keep him out of his thoughts, and he made a decent amount of money doing it. Win/win.

And sure, it was a college town. It didn’t _hurt_ that some of the hottest guys on campus came through on a nightly basis. Usually, Andrew was more than happy to enjoy the view rather than take any action. But that was before Neil showed up and leaned against his bar.

Which, ok, jesus fucking christ, he was doing again. Andrew narrowed his eyes halfway through pouring shots, and, after carefully putting the bottle of Jager down, stalked over to Neil. “Do you not understand how rules work?”

The grin Neil gave Andrew was far too broad and mischievous for the glare Andrew knew he was wearing. Even Matt had flinched back a half inch when Andrew appeared. 

“I was just getting myself comfortable for the rest of my evening here at this fine establishment,” Neil said, in a sugar sweet voice at odds with his shit-eating grin.

“Don’t,” Andrew said, boiling down all of his conflicting emotions on the situation into one word. It worked so well, too; don’t lean against the bar, don’t talk back to me, don’t make me have to escort you to the door, don’t make me try to kiss the grin off your face…

While Andrew doubted that Matt picked up on all of the reasons for his monosyllabic response, he did seem to understand that it was best to get Neil away from the bar. 

“C’mon Neil. Even if you don’t dance, you can just sway to the music,” Matt said, tugging at Neil’s hand. 

A heated whirl of emotion smashed into Andrew’s chest, and he realized that he was _jealous_ that Matt could so easily touch Neil. 

Whatever. He’d get over it. 

Except then Neil, despite his earlier protests about not dancing, nodded, and got up from his stool. He took Matt’s hand and let him lead him to the dance floor.

Within moments, Roland materialized behind Andrew.

“So, Neil’s pretty cute,” Roland said, both his tone and his grin matching Neil’s.

What Andrew needed was a new job.

~~~

Neil not dancing was apparently the biggest lie of the evening. The next two hours, Neil danced both with and without Matt, taking a break only long enough to catch Roland for another cup of water. He appeared to be made out of an effervescent sort of energy, throwing his hands up and moving to the music as though it was part of his body.

Not that Andrew was studying him.

The crowds had started to thin out as it got closer and closer to last call, and at last call, Neil and Matt were back at the bar. Matt grabbed one last beer and when Roland offered another water, Neil had said, "Nah, I'm close to my limit, better hold off."

And Matt, Roland, and Neil all laughed like Neil was hilarious.

Which he wasn't.

Matt hadn't drank enough over the several hours they'd spent in the bar to be drunk, but he must have been buzzed because he chose that moment to grab Neil's hand again and say, very earnestly, "Neil, I don't want you to be alone. You're my friend!"

Neil patted Matt awkwardly on the arm. "See, you're my friend. I'm not alone."

Matt shook his head. "But I graduate next year! No. You have to, you have to find someone. We just need to set you up.”

A group of giggling students flung themselves at the bar to order their last drinks. Roland and Andrew split it, putting out drinks about as quickly as Matt went through plans to set Neil up.

The entire while, Neil was shaking his head. “I don’t date, Matt. I’m--”

“Ok, ok,” Matt said. “Look, here, just humor me. Let’s make a bet.”

“A bet,” Neil repeated.

Andrew leaned back against the sink and listened to the conversation unfold.

“Yeah. You let me set you up on three dates. If none of them pan out, I’ll never say another word about dating again.” Matt gestured around the bar, as though he was going to pick three random people.

Andrew kind of wanted to be one of them, right until Neil leaned back against the bar again. This time, though, he seemed to be thinking of what to say to Matt instead of trying to piss Andrew off. Though, Andrew could admit that perhaps Neil was multi-tasking. He kept his mouth shut for the moment.

“Just three.”

Matt held up his hand in a solemn oath. “And then I’ll shut up about it for good.”

“And you’ll pay for my three dates,” Neil continued. “Regardless of the outcome of the bet.”

Matt paused, but only for a moment. “Yeah. I’ll pay for them. If I win, you have to… invite me to your wedding.”

Neil covered his laugh with a coughing fit. “Let’s shake on it,” he said.

Roland nudged Andrew, pitching his voice just quiet enough that Matt and Neil couldn’t hear over the bustle of people packing up to leave for the evening. “You going to volunteer yourself as tribute?”

Andrew shook his head. Roland deserved that much of an answer. However, Roland completely ruined it by continuing to talk.

“Like I haven’t seen you keep your eyes on him all night.” Roland raised his eyebrow. “I know a crush when I see one.”

“You’re hardly the voice of reason here,” Andrew said. “Aren’t there some dishes you should be doing in the back?”

“Ah ah.” Roland waggled a finger at Andrew. “Not getting rid of me that easily tonight. Nicky is still here.”

“Fantastic,” Andrew said. “The other side of the bar is looking dingy, don’t you think?”

By the time he was able to listen to Matt and Neil’s conversation again, Matt had grabbed Neil’s phone and had set him up with, apparently, tinder.

“So for your profile,” Matt said, “Are you interested in men or women?”

“Neither.”

Matt was unphased. “Ok, so I’m going to put both and just sort of improve our odds of finding that lucky lady or dude.”

Andrew had given Neil more than enough leeway leaning against the bar. Never mind the three ridiculously drunk football players at the end of the bar half collapsed over the bar. Andrew made it two steps closer to Neil, and Neil straightened up. 

“So sorry for the irreparable damage I’ve done tonight,” Neil faux apologized, even if neither he nor Andrew knew exactly how much damage he had done by worming his way into Andrew’s mind tonight.

“You’re lucky that Matt is vouching for you,” Andrew said. “Because I’d have picked you up and brought you outside myself otherwise.”

Neil glanced at Andrew’s shoulders and arms, sizing him up. Andrew most definitely did _not_ casually flex. He did put his hands on his hips, though, because that was intimidating, and he wanted Neil to know that he was capable of both bartending and bouncing. 

“Yeah, you look pretty strong,” Neil agreed. Was he flirting? He just said he didn’t date. Yet somehow, those words sounded like flirting. “But I’m fast on my feet.”

He wasn’t flirting. Andrew tilted his head at Neil, hoping to convey how utterly inane he thought Neil was being. Neil didn’t seem to care.

“The last time a guy looked at me like that,” Neil added, gesturing to Andrew’s face, “I ended up dodging six knives so like, I think this is my cue to get out of here.” He met Andrew’s eyes almost like he was _daring_ Andrew to throw a knife at him, and the flirting versus not flirting scale in Andrew’s brain broke. 

He’d add it to Neil’s tab.

~~~

A week later, Neil was on a date. He sat on a bar stool at one of the small, round tables, and Matt must have dressed him, because unlike the oversized t-shirt and faded jean shorts from last week, Neil wore a nicely fitted black shirt and dark washed jeans that hugged his hips. 

From where Andrew was standing (the bar, pouring drinks), it seemed safe to say Neil was not on a date. Andrew recognized Allison from a criminal justice class they had together. He could see how, objectively, she was gorgeous, and so could approximately every other person in the bar.

Except for Neil, who was talking animatedly about _something_ that required him to gesture to make a point several times. Allison leaned forward with a light laugh, the move highlighting her breasts, which were already lovingly highlighted by a strappy red crop top. Every other person in the bar had glanced her way once or twice. A few, three times.

Except for Neil, who kept talking. Andrew watched, though he wouldn’t say he was fascinated or anything. He was just… curious, that’s all. It was interesting to watch Neil, who was clearly involving Allison in the conversation, but completely ignoring every advance she tried to make. When she ran her hand down Neil’s sleeve, Neil didn’t even look. He just nodded and asked her a question. Andrew couldn’t hear the specifics, and besides, he didn’t want to eavesdrop. He just wanted to know what the hell Neil was doing.

“I think it’s safe to say your crush doesn’t appear to like women,” Roland said, from where he appeared at Andrew’s side.

“Don’t you have drinks to mix?” Andrew grumbled with a flat glare. 

Roland brushed off the comment, and Andrew considered that he seriously needed to calibrate his glare. It didn’t seem to work anymore. 

“I can’t date a guy who doesn’t want to date,” Andrew said, spelling it out and putting it in the open. 

“You do see how he’s on a date right now, right?” Roland asked. “Do I need to get you an eye appointment?”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Coercion by overly concerned roommates does not count.”

“Why don’t you take them a couple of drinks, on the house, and scope out the situation,” Roland suggested, the very picture of innocence.

Andrew hated Roland. Not as much as he hated Neil though. Neil, with his auburn curls that he kept pushing back before they kept falling back over his eyes and his animated gestures that threatened to knock his drink off the table but never did.

Allison tried sliding her hand up Neil’s forearm, and Neil cocked his head at her and stared at her hand. He paused and, with a slow, cautious hand, mimicked her gesture, and Andrew didn’t _have_ to look away; there were simply more people at the bar who needed to be served.

By the time Andrew had finished pouring the last drink of the rush and tossed a glance towards Neil, they were gone. He wondered if the date had gone more successfully that he’d predicted and they’d left, if they’d just gone to dance in the back, or--

“Hey.” Neil’s voice cut through Andrew’s thoughts, and Andrew slid an expertly arranged bored expression at Neil.

“Water on the rocks, yeah, I know.” Andrew grabbed down a glass, not breaking eye contact with Neil. “What’s your date having?”

Neil flinched, almost imperceptibly, at the word date, but his calm shrug and tiny smile piqued Andrew’s attention. Again. More. Even more of his attention went to Neil, and all Neil had done was flash the smallest sliver of a smile in Andrew’s direction. It hadn’t even been meant for Andrew; it was meant for Neil’s date. 

“I’m not sure what she wants to have,” Neil said. “She’s just using the restroom and then she’ll be back. I figured I’d grab some water while I waited.”

Andrew pushed the cup in front of Neil, and crossed his arms. Even though he didn’t say a word, Neil seemed to take it as a question and started talking again.

“Don’t tell Matt, but he’s losing this bet,” Neil confided, as if he hadn’t been getting handsy with Allison not three minutes ago. “I mean, I told him that when he tried to explain swiping right and left to me, but he refused to believe me.”

Andrew opened his mouth to accuse Neil of lying, when Allison parted the crowd and came to stand next to Neil. 

“Hey,” she said, nodding towards a guy at the end of the bar. End of the bar guy had a sullen tinge to his otherwise handsome face, and sandy blonde wave-tousled hair. “I think I’m going to get out of here with Seth, if you don’t mind.”

Neil shook his head, waving for her to go. “Why would I mind?”

“Well, I know we talked about it, but we did start the evening on a date together and I don’t want you to regret this?” Allison asked, glancing at Andrew like he could help her. 

Andrew said nothing. He clearly had missed whatever conversation they’d had at the table that had led to this. Neil just shrugged.

“Neil, you’re cute,” Allison finally said, reaching out and ruffling Neil’s hair until his auburn curls were even messier.

Andrew said nothing, but glared in Allison’s direction. She didn’t seem to notice. Why did she get to touch Neil so much? Andrew found himself hoping Neil would lean against the bar just so he could smack the back of his head again. No one would blame him if he kept his fingers there a moment longer than necessary.

“But you’re kind of dumb as hell,” Allison finished. She glanced down at the guy at the end of the bar again. “Look, I think you’re cool. But I’m going to go get laid if that’s alright with you.”

“Go for it,” Neil said, very earnest. “You deserve it.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow, right as Neil turned around. He fucking _winked_ at Andrew, and then, before Andrew’s still-broken ‘is he flirting?’ meter could process that, leaned against the bar.

Well, at least that part was easy. Andrew focused his glare on Neil, and reached over the glossy surface of the bar to grab Neil’s shirt. His fingers brushed against the back of Neil’s neck.

“Do you have a death wish?” Andrew asked.

Neil didn’t miss a beat, even with Andrew’s hands on his collar. “Nah, but you’re going to have to try a hell of a lot harder than that to convince me you really want to hurt me.”

That _had_ to be flirting. Right?

But judging from the hard look deep in Neil’s eyes, Andrew thought maybe not. He loosened his grip on Neil’s shirt without letting go completely, and kept his face as even as possible. “Interesting.”

Neil shook his head at the word. “Not me. Well, thanks for the drinks! See you next time Matt drags me out of my room.” He moved like he was about to take Andrew’s hand off of him, so Andrew released him first. Neil shrugged again, waved, and left just a few minutes after his failed date left with Seth. 

A little bit later in the night, Andrew had a chance to use his glare on a guy who refused to leave someone alone, even after they’d said no thanks to a drink. The guy shrank back and left, and Andrew was pleased to see that his death glare had not, in fact, been miscalibrated. He still needed to figure out where exactly Neil stood with dating and flirting, but the repair parts for his brain hadn’t come in yet and there was no estimate for when they'd arrive. 

~~~

“Roland, you’ve gotta help me,” Matt said from where he stood across the bar, his hands on the bar and leaning forward as if he was worried Neil could hear him.

Neil was sitting at his “date” table, probably unable to hear anything that wasn’t within three feet of him on account of all the noise of the bar. But Andrew could hear everything Matt was saying to Roland, even as he poured drinks at an impressive rate for the rush of students who’d all decided that nine forty-three was _the_ time to hit the bar.

“It’s impossible. I show him a profile and he shrugs. Sometimes, I think he shrugs a little less than other times, so I usually make him swipe right on those ones. But I’m talking a difference of like half an inch at best. I’m going to lose this bet.”

Roland handed Matt a shot, and Matt downed it. 

“What do you think I can do about it?” Roland asked. “You’ve only started bringing him around here, what, a month and a half ago? I’ve got nothing.”

“You just _know_ people,” Matt said. He waved a vague hand towards Andrew. “Like you knew exactly what to say to get Andrew to work for you. That’s not like, nothing.”

Andrew pretended not to hear.

But Roland knew Andrew, so of course his next fucking words were made with the knowledge that Andrew was listening in. “I think you might need to go off the app,” Roland said. “Maybe go the old fashioned matchmaker route and hand pick someone for him.”

Andrew scowled, but the expression was lost on Roland.

“You think?” Matt asked. “God. I really thought I had something with Jeremy. Look at him! Brilliant smile, golden hair, pretty enough to make me consider switching teams!”

Andrew glanced through the crowd again, locating Neil with ease. Matt had to have dressed him this time too; Neil wore a jewel blue long sleeved v-neck shirt with his dark jeans tonight; maybe Matt could only convince him to get one pair of jeans, but they looked really good on him, so it wasn’t really a loss.

Neil was talking just as animatedly as ever, managing not to hit any of the drinks on the table. Except now, there was a third person at the table, someone tall, with pale skin and dark brown hair. The new guy didn’t seem to like smiling, but he followed Neil’s story with interest, just the same as Jeremy.

Andrew wasn’t jealous. He really wasn’t. He could have gone on the damn app himself and made a profile and swiped right on Neil’s name and then maybe he’d be sitting at that table with Neil. If Neil felt the same. But Neil didn’t date.

Andrew wondered if Neil’s shrug at Andrew’s profile would be small enough that Matt would try to send them on a date. 

“Yeah, I think his major is math or something really surprisingly boring,” Matt was telling Roland. “Which helps me just as much as not knowing it. The only thing he cares about is soccer and if he heard me call it that instead of football, he’d have a whole rant and I just. I can’t believe I’m going to lose this bet.”

Roland offered his condolences and another shot.

“What about you, Andrew?” Matt asked.

Andrew paused sharply, turning slowly to face Matt without an ounce of expression on his face. Was Matt about to suggest hooking them up? And if he did, would he take Matt up on the offer? 

Should he?

“You’re observant, too. I think. Would you help me find someone to set Neil up with?” Matt asked, and Andrew didn’t know whether to be annoyed that Matt was asking him for help or annoyed that Matt didn’t ask him to date Neil. Who didn’t date.

Before Andrew could choose to be annoyed by both, Neil popped up to the bar with a brilliant smile and a gleam in his blue eyes. Andrew couldn’t help but notice how the color of his shirt played up the ocean quality of Neil’s eyes. He didn’t _stare_ into them, but he did make eye contact, daring Neil to be the first to look away.

Neil didn’t look away. He ordered his glass of water without an ounce of shame and plopped down into the bar stool by Matt when someone moved off of it.

“I’m not winning tonight, am I?” Matt asked, though he didn’t sound too upset about it.

“Sorry,” Neil apologized, sounding not sorry at all. “I think Jeremy is cool, but once we got to talking, I hooked him up with Jean.”

Andrew couldn’t help himself. “You do understand how dating works, right?”

“In the abstract, sure,” Neil said, taking a sip of water. There’s no way that watching him raise a glass to his lips and take a drink should be so hot, but Andrew was unable to look away as Neil swallowed, the muscles of his throat moving beautifully. “I told Matt I don’t date.”

Matt put up his hands. “You did. Honestly, I’ll concede if you want now. You’ve humored my bet enough.”

Neil nodded. “Nah, I don’t mind. Allison and I hang out after class on Wednesday now. And Jeremy was planning a trip to France and now Jean’s going with, so I was sharing my travel tips with them. I’ll go for one more ‘date’, win the bet, and maybe get another friend out of the deal. Which technically might mean I lose the bet, I’m honestly not sure at this point.”

Andrew’s head hurt. There was no way Neil could be this (hot) stupid, and yet, here he was, his collarbone so rudely peeking out of the v-neck shirt, and his mouth forming words that were essentially meaningless but had Andrew hanging on every syllable. And then Neil’s tongue darted out to lick away a drop of moisture on his lower lip, and Andrew had to steadfastly ignore the way Roland sent a knowing glance his way.

“So you’re still on for trying one more date,” Matt confirmed, looking halfway between relieved and miserable at the thought.

“Oh yeah.” Neil seemed so pleased by Matt’s apparent distress that Andrew had to press his lips together, lest he do as Roland had suggested earlier when this whole “dating” thing started and volunteer himself to be tribute. There was no way Neil was as much of a trouble-making shit as this whole exchange suggested, but at the same time, Andrew couldn’t rule it out.

And fuck if that didn’t just make him want to get with Neil more than ever. 

~~~

The week leading up to finals, the bar was pretty much dead. Andrew showed up for his shifts, but he and Roland didn’t do much besides wipe the already glossy bar again and again, and then stand around.

It was the standing around that was perilous, because that’s when Roland started talking. Normally, the conversation would be schoolwork, or Roland’s plans for after graduation, or the occasional attempt by Roland to coax Andrew out to some event “for fun.”

Today, however, the conversation wasn’t normal.

“So. Neil.” Roland stopped, an out of character hesitation. Good. He knew how much Andrew didn’t want to talk about it. But then he opened his mouth and kept going anyhow. “Haven’t seen him in a little while, yeah?”

Bad. Because Andrew didn’t want to think about how he hadn’t seen Neil in a little while. Because what if Neil had found a third person to go on a date with and that date had taken place somewhere else and what if this imaginary “third time’s the charm” person got to hold Neil close and look into his ocean blue eyes and run a hand through Neil’s hair and choke on Neil's dick?

What if Neil didn’t come back to the bar anymore because he didn’t need to, and he didn’t want to see Andrew, even if he _seemed_ to like seeing Andrew, or at least he always leaned against the bar which meant Andrew would head his way, which seemed like flirting.

Andrew wasn’t sure his ability to tell when Neil was flirting would ever be properly calibrated. 

“We can talk about something else,” Roland said, and Andrew realized how long he had been not saying anything, including telling Roland off for talking about Neil, which was exactly as damning as saying something about Neil.

Andrew let out the tiniest huff of a sigh; Roland was patient and deserved that much, but not an inch more. “Yes. I have not seen Neil.”

“Haven’t seen Matt either,” Roland observed, as if that was the natural second part of the conversation. “They must be busy with finals.”

And, oh, of course Roland was trying to comfort Andrew without being over the top about it, and a little glow of warmth touched the very edge of Andrew’s heart. Roland wasn’t ever going to be Andrew’s person (for one thing, he had a really hard time understanding how not to touch Andrew), but he could call him a friend. 

Thing was, Andrew didn’t want to be comforted. It was dark gray outside and gloomy and the couple of people in the bar were quiet and subdued, drinking less for the camaraderie and more for the premature concern that they’d already failed their classes for the semester. If Neil was here, his ridiculous personality would color the gray and his stupid boisterous voice would fill the silence.

But Neil wasn’t there and he _didn’t date_ and Andrew wasn’t in the mood for Roland and his unerring positivity. He rolled his eyes and mumbled something about seeing if Nicky needed any help in the back.

“Don’t worry about me,” Roland called as Andrew went through the swinging doors to the back. “I can handle this crowd like you wouldn’t believe.”

Nicky didn’t need help either; there were like three people drinking. Andrew and Roland could have easily handled cleaning up after them, but Nicky had begged a couple hours of pay for the day. Now he was sitting at one of the counters, pouring over his textbook and notes.

“If you need to study like that the day before your final, you clearly need to pay attention in class more,” Andrew deadpanned.

“We can’t all be perfect at school,” Nicky grumbled back at Andrew, but his tone was fond. “What did I do to deserve a visit? You must need a break from the absolute breakneck speed of things out front, right?”

Andrew didn’t need to acknowledge Nicky’s attempt at humor. Heading to the back was a mistake; the bright overhead lights provided too artificial a light, and he was already getting a headache. Without the shadows that the dim bar lights provided, anyone could see that Andrew hadn't been sleeping well, tossing and turning and thinking about a guy who didn't date and wanting to date him.

What Andrew needed was a cigarette. He patted his pants pocket, ensuring the carton was there, and headed towards the back door.

“Hey! That reminds me,” Nicky added, before Andrew could get away, “I’m throwing a party next Wednesday before everyone leaves for break. I already told Roland you’re taking the night off, and don’t give me that look--you haven’t taken a single night off, I’m not even quite sure if you sleep at all, and if you’re not going to sleep, you might as well spend one night pretending you like to be around other people.”

“I don’t, and I won’t,” Andrew said, his hand on the door.

Nicky wasn’t phased in the least. “It’s going to be great! I’ve got Kevin coming, he’s bringing Thea, and did you know Jean and Jeremy have been hooking up? They’re both coming, and I think Aaron invited like half of the cheerleaders through Katelyn, but I can kind of keep them to one side so you don’t have to see them all that much. I invited Matt, he’s in my psychology class, he might bring his roommate, it’s going to be a great night.”

Andrew had been halfway through the door when he heard Matt’s name. Matt’s roommate. Neil.

“I’ll consider it,” Andrew amended, letting the door swing shut behind him.

Outside, the air was still gray and cloudy, but the smallest bit of sunshine broke through the edges. Andrew lit his cigarette and took a slow drag. It was stupid of him to want to go to Nicky’s party just to see Neil, who didn’t date. 

He’d had to catch himself from casually asking Nicky about Matt’s roommate, because Nicky would start putting two and two together. Not as fast as Roland did, but Roland had some sort of sixth sense about those sort of things.

Andrew could see it now. _Oh hi, Neil. Yeah I’m just here because I heard you’d be here and you don’t date, but I’d really like to kiss that stupid grin off of your face. You don’t date, but if you wanted to head upstairs to the bathroom, I’d suck you off without a second thought and tell you I’d do it again if you liked it. And trust me, if you're into that sort of thing, you'll like it._

The problem was, Andrew _could_ see it too clearly, and it was making his pants uncomfortably tight. He smoked his cigarette, watched the smoke dissipate into the clouds, and did his best to not think about Neil.

It didn’t work, but it was cold enough outside that if Andrew just focused on how annoying Neil was, he could concentrate on not being horny as fuck.

When he was done with the cigarette, he crushed it on the asphalt under his feet, and headed back inside, hoping that there were at least a few more people looking for drinks. Even still, he had a feeling Roland was going to let him go for the night in an hour or so, and then he’d fill his time becoming further acquainted with his hand and his thoughts of Neil.

~~~

At home, alone, in bed. That was a precarious time, too, just like a quiet night at the bar with Roland. 

Some nights, alone was oppressive, and Andrew’s worst thoughts would smother out any smoldering bits of happiness. Thank fuck, this wasn’t one of those nights. Instead, Neil’s face burned like a beacon through the fog of unwanted hands grabbing where they shouldn’t, and Neil’s voice crowded out words forever burned into his brain. 

So when Andrew’s breath broke the silence as a heavy sigh, and thoughts of Neil led to thoughts of kissing Neil, he fell into the moment as heat pooled deep inside his body. Neil was a mystery like Andrew hadn’t ever seen, like a puzzle with missing pieces, but it didn’t matter because Andrew knew he had a few missing pieces too, and he had a dangerously scary thought that together, they might complement each other’s broken spots.

Andrew slid his hand underneath his boxers, in no hurry to destroy the tentative moment, in no hurry to chase Neil from his thoughts. Half hard already, he imagined Neil next to him. It was too much right away to imagine Neil touching him, but he was surprised how close to safe it seemed already.

Neil would sit next to Andrew, his fingers threaded through Andrew's hair, and yes. That was safe. He'd lean in until their foreheads touched and he’d kiss Andrew. Despite the scars and the burns, Neil would kiss softly, like he wasn't ruined by his past.

And Andrew would kiss back, just as soft, because he wasn't ruined by his past either.

Andrew's fingers slid across the sensitive tip of his cock, and he tilted his hips, thrusting against himself. He'd proven they could be soft, and now he was aching for more. 

Neil didn't even date, but here he was, jacking off to him anyhow. Andrew could sort out that mess in a few minutes but for now, he was safe in his fantasy, safe in the thought that Neil would kiss him a little harder and stay close without touching him. In his imagination, Neil wouldn't think he was too weird for not wanting to be touched, wouldn't pry for answers Andrew wasn't ready to give.

Neil would breathe, the exhalation rushing against Andrew's ear, and Andrew sucked in a deep breath at the thought. Neil would murmur something in his ear, something only for Andrew. 

He palmed the length of his cock with another heavy breath. Maybe Neil would drop the bratty act when it was just the two of them and whisper, "You're doing so good," to him. The moment he imagined Neil saying that, Andrew had to stop and remember how to move air in and out of his lungs. 

God, he was so fucked up in ways that Neil might never accept, but Neil didn't date, so it was ok. Everything was fine. Andrew wrapped his fingers around his cock and breathed as he got himself off, heedless of how he'd planned on taking his time.

Maybe he was imagining Neil sliding his hand across his hips and slipping his fingers under Andrew's, following Andrew's lead instead of setting a pace on his own, maybe Neil would hold him like he wouldn't break, would hold him like he was worth touching.

Maybe Neil would ghost a kiss to Andrew's neck as he started to set a faster pace, maybe he'd suck on the side of Andrew's throat, right where his pulse bounded out of his skin, his lips warm and soft and wet against his skin, and Andrew made a few strangled noises at the thought. His chest was heaving, his eyes were closed because when they were closed, he could imagine Neil all around him and Neil looking at him with a knowing smirk as he nipped at Andrew's neck and, oh, _fuck_ , yeah, that would feel good.

Andrew came, making a mess of his fist and fingers, cum dripping down onto his thighs. But for a long minute, he did nothing, hearing only the sound of his breathing, still heavy in his ears.

He told himself it was just to get Neil out of his system, that he was safe to go to Nicky's party now, but the now cooled cum on his fingers and the way his cock twitched with interest at Neil’s name told another story. Fuck it. He'd go to Nicky's party and let the cards fall where they would.

He just hoped they went in his favor for once. 

~~~

The thing about parties was that Andrew avoided them. He'd gotten through three semesters without attending a single one, though Nicky would claim that last year's end of the semester hangout was a party simply because someone had brought a piñata.

(It was Nicky. Nicky had brought the piñata.)

So really, the fact that he was going to this party meant he was stupidly gone on a guy who didn't date, and Andrew couldn't stress this enough, because after another two sessions with his hand on his dick and Neil on his mind, he still didn't seem to be listening to himself.

The only good thing was Nicky had invited so many people that he didn't know who Andrew was swayed by to join the festivities. 

And Nicky put together a good party, Andrew could give him credit for that. He'd had a strong drink in Andrew's hands within sixty seconds of his arrival. He’d navigated Andrew through the crowd and deposited him by Kevin and Aaron before heading back to greet his next guest. Kevin and Aaron were in a heated discussion about something to do with this history of anesthesia. Andrew was sure it was absolutely fascinating to them. But it also wasn’t listening to any of the cheerleaders, or having to stare at people who thought he somehow looked friendly enough to talk to until they got the message, so he stayed and drank and scanned the room for Neil as unobtrusively as possible.

He was starting on his second drink, and Kevin was debating the merits of something to do with epidurals and spinals, and wasn't it Aaron who was supposed to be the doctor? That's when Nicky opened the door across the way and greeted his latest arrivals.

"Matt! You made it! And you even brought your squirrelly roommate!"

Andrew bristled at Nicky’s accusation. Only _he_ was allowed to poke fun at Neil. Waving his half empty glass at Kevin and Aaron as an excuse, Andrew got up and headed to the door.

"Leave him be. He's mine," Andrew told Nicky in German as Matt crushed Nicky in a giant hug.

Matt waved at Andrew. He knew better than to even attempt a hug. 

Neil had dressed himself for the occasion; a black t-shirt two sizes too big threatened to slide off of his shoulder, and honestly, Andrew wouldn’t complain if it did. Neil’s jeans were worn so thin that the holes were probably authentic instead of fashionable, legitimately obtained through years of daily use. Neil tilted his head to the side when he heard Andrew talk to Nicky, probably because he didn't expect the German. 

Nicky noticed it too, because he added, "I lived abroad for a couple of years in Germany before coming back to the states!"

Hashing out the intricacies of Nicky's presence in the states wasn’t at the top of Andrew’s priorities, so he grabbed Neil by the arm and took him to the kitchen.

"Hey," Neil protested, though he followed Andrew anyhow. "I didn't lean against your bar."

Andrew considered Neil for a moment and gestured to the various liquors on the counter, an invitation to mix something for him. He didn't trust himself to say anything that wasn't damning evidence of how much he wanted Neil, so he didn't speak.

"Different scenery, but I still don't drink," Neil said. He leaned against the countertop. "I'll grab some water later."

A group of cheerleaders came in the kitchen from the other entrance and Andrew pursed his lips. "Come on," he told Neil, curious to see if he'd follow. "Let's go upstairs."

"I hate crowds," Neil said, and just like that he followed Andrew to the stairs at the back of the kitchen. Halfway up, he paused on the step and added, "Is this ok though? It seems like everyone is downstairs."

"Nicky won't mind," Andrew said, without stopping. At the top of the steps, he listened with a cautious ear, but no one else had come upstairs yet. It was probably too early in the evening for that sort of shenanigans. 

Andrew steadfastly ignored that he was hoping to partake in that exact sort of shenanigans in favor of talking to Neil without a crowd. He took Neil down the hallway and pushed open the door to the last room on the left. The bedroom was small but comfortable, with a twin bed against the wall and a desk on the other side. Andrew made himself comfortable on the bed and Neil pulled out the chair from the desk and sat in it.

Within seconds, he was tilting it backwards.

Andrew rolled his eyes but it was lost on Neil, who seemed perfectly comfortable with the lack of conversation. He tilted the chair back again, his fingers laced behind his head.

In the quiet space between them, Andrew thought, _so do you still have a third date to go on?_ He thought, _did you find someone who you liked enough to lose the bet?_ But he wasn't about to say any of that out loud.

"You're just as talkative outside the bar, yeah?" Neil observed, tilting the chair and looking up at the ceiling.

"Hm." 

Neil scoffed. "Hey so you have a twin? I thought I saw another you downstairs."

"Yeah." Andrew didn't feel like going into anything about Aaron right now. He braced himself for the usual questions, but Neil just shrugged.

"Weird. I don't think I could stand having someone who looked like me wandering around."

"We look very different," Andrew said, deadpan.

"Yeah, I assume that's why you have roughly sixty ear piercings. And why you keep your hair a whole two inches longer." Neil's grin was exactly the kind that made Andrew want to kiss him until he shut up. Had Neil really seen Aaron that long to differentiate between them? People who knew them for months still had trouble telling them apart, even with Andrew's five--not sixty--piercings.

And one that Neil didn't need to know about yet.

"So why don't you drink?" Andrew asked, not sure if he expected an answer.

Neil fixed him with a small stare. "Reminds me too much of being in pain."

That was unexpected, but Andrew had seen the hardness in Neil's eyes. They had traded a truth for a truth. Andrew’s twin for Neil’s pain.

Neil tilted the chair back again, and his t-shirt slipped off of his shoulder, exposing a bit of his collarbone. It would be so easy for Andrew to slide between Neil's legs, unzip his pants, and show Neil what he thought of him.

"So you ended here at PSU," Andrew said instead. "It doesn't add up."

"Neither do you," Neil replied evenly. In German. "But here we are, avoiding everyone else together."

Together. 

Andrew scowled. “Has no one told you I don’t like surprises?”

“I was just curious why you were talking to Nicky in another language,” Neil said, back to English. “I heard you tell him to leave me alone. I didn’t hear what else you said.”

Andrew slid a cool look at Neil, forcing his eyes off of Neil's body. Not that it helped much with keeping his desire under control. Neil's eyes were just so expressive. Neil was dangerous in ways Andrew couldn't begin to describe, because every single way led to Andrew kissing him until he came apart in his hands.

"Nothing important," Andrew said, forcing his voice to be as bored as if he was commenting on the weather. "Did Matt end up winning the bet?"

Neil laughed, and the chair underneath him creaked with the full body mirth. "Nah, I think he's given up. I tried to go through tinder a few times, but…" Neil paused, and all four legs of the chair rested on the ground at the same time. "I don't know. Matt says that it's about taking a spark and seeing where it goes. Maybe it works for other people. It wasn't working for me."

Andrew didn't want to clarify what he already knew, but he couldn't stop from asking the question, the words a black hole into which he would be consumed. "So you don't date."

"No," Neil said, automatically, and Andrew's mind went to the black hole of _you fucking knew that_ but Neil was still talking. "At least, not right now. I think it depends though. It feels like if the right person were to say something, I might give it a try."

Andrew allowed a nod, but inside, his head was a cacophony of a thousand thoughts about kissing Neil and blowing Neil and Neil doesn't date except if it was the right person and what if Andrew was the right person. 

But Andrew was never the right person. 

Andrew needed a smoke to clear his mind before he did something stupid, like try to blow Neil in Nicky's guest room to prove he was(n’t) the right person for Neil. He fumbled with his pocket until he pulled out his cigarette pack and got up to open the window.

He was well aware of Neil's eyes on him as he lit the cigarette and took a drag, blowing the smoke out the window. Neil's unwavering stare only intensified Andrew's desire. His hand nearly shook as he brought the cigarette to his lips again. 

A moment later, Neil had abandoned the desk chair to stand next to Andrew. Up close, without the divide of the bar between them, Andrew was surprised to see how the couple inches in their height made such a difference. He wasn't sure what Neil wanted, but every nerve in his body screamed _touch him_.

"Can I have one?" Neil asked, his voice low. Quiet. Contemplative.

Without thinking, Andrew handed Neil the cigarette in his hand. Before he could take it back, Neil had grabbed it, as if he didn't care that Andrew's lips had been on it a moment ago. Neil pursed his lips around the cigarette, but didn't inhale. He stood there, watching smoke curl out from the end. 

Andrew watched, transfixed by the scene. 

It was entirely possible he'd forgotten how to breathe when Neil took the slowest drag of a cigarette he'd ever seen, his lips pressing around it and his cheeks hollowing out like a slow motion video. Neil closed his eyes for a moment almost like a prayer before breathing out, small tendrils of smoke curling towards the open window. Whatever answer Neil had been looking for in the smoke, he seemed to find. His shoulders dropped, a small amount of tension bleeding out. 

Andrew knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself. He reached out and plucked the cigarette from Neil's hand. Neil could have protested, but he didn't. He watched Andrew intently until all Andrew could think about was how there was less than three inches between them, and how Neil's lips had just been on the cigarette moments ago. Ash crumbled into the windowsill and the acrid smell of smoke wove around them until Andrew wasn't sure if he and Neil had ever not been about to kiss.

He saw desire mirrored in Neil's eyes, the ocean blue edged out by wide blown pupils, the faintest red tinge to his cheeks, his lips parted just enough for the pink of his tongue to be visible. Andrew stubbed the cigarette into the windowsill and leaned forward, taking Neil's face in his hands, and kissing him.

Neil gasped softly beneath his lips, a little _oh_ of surprise and excitement that went straight to Andrew's groin. Neil's mouth was warm and still tasted faintly of their shared cigarette, and when he opened his mouth for Andrew’s tongue, his jaw moved under Andrew’s fingers. Andrew wanted to press into that hollow, to open Neil’s mouth wider, to slip his tongue in the newly made space. 

Instead, he swallowed hard, and let go of Neil’s face, and sat back down on the bed. Neil watched him, a hand to his lips like they were burned.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Andrew muttered. 

Neil shook his head. “Why not?”

“You. Don’t. Date.” 

Now Neil was taking a step closer. “You saw me on two dates.” 

Andrew should have just left the room, but he stayed where he was. “They didn’t count. You were forced.”

Neil laughed, but his pupils were still huge and he was still staring at Andrew like Andrew was everything he needed. Andrew knew he was projecting his feelings on Neil. Neil looked like everything Andrew needed, Neil was too much all at once, and Andrew couldn’t neatly sort him into a box, couldn’t make him safe. 

“Matt might be bigger than me, but he didn’t force me to do anything. I was open to trying, even though I strongly suspected it wouldn’t work because I don’t really think about other people like that.”

Neil sat on the bed, close, but not touching Andrew. The heat of his body radiated towards Andrew, and his oversized shirt still hung off one shoulder.

“You’re drunk. I’m taking advantage.” Andrew threw his fear into the open, and Neil brushed it aside like it was nothing.

“You had your tongue in my mouth. You know I’m not drunk.” Neil’s smirk was dizzying in its intensity, and maybe it was flirting, maybe it wasn’t, but it was undeniably Neil. “And you might be able to bench more than me, but I could still escape if I thought you were trying to take advantage.” He scooted just a touch closer to Andrew. Still not touching, but his heat encompassed him. “Do I look like I’m trying to escape?”

Andrew shook his head, but whether he was answering Neil’s question or trying to convince himself to stop, he wasn’t sure. 

Neil met Andrew’s eyes. He held up his hands, purposely tucking them behind his back. “I noticed you flinched when I reached out at the bar. I don’t mind keeping my hands back. I think I’d like to touch you but I’m ok if kissing is all you want. I don’t know how to date. I’ll follow your lead.”

An odd flare of warmth tugged at the edge of Andrew’s heart again, something he’d only felt around Roland and Nicky on the odd occasion. If he didn’t mind not touching him, Neil was the right brand of fucked up for Andrew. He didn’t have to think about if it was fair for Neil or if he was letting him down or any of the million doubts that usually encompassed his sexual encounters. 

Andrew leaned forward, cut the space between them into nothing, and kissed Neil again. Neil didn’t pause, just opened his mouth between them and let Andrew in. They kissed for seconds or minutes, time measured only in breaths stolen between deep kisses, and Andrew slid his hands onto Neil’s face again, traced the line of his jaw with his fingers. 

Without breaking contact between his fingers and Neil’s face, Andrew leaned back just enough to ask, “It’s ok for me to touch you? You don’t date.”

“I don’t date,” Neil agreed, but his voice was breathless, like he’d ran a mile, and his cheeks were flushed bright pink. “But I think it’s ok for you to touch wherever you want.”

Andrew traced the scars on Neil’s face, knowing that whatever Neil had been through, it hadn’t involved anyone touching him with a kind hand. A sudden, deep wave of protection surged through him; he wanted to cover those scars with a gentle touch, to show Neil that he was worthy of being cherished, and where the fuck did those thoughts come from?

Still, Andrew pressed a kiss against Neil’s scarred cheek and Neil’s breathy gasp was a powerful reward. He ran his thumb along the shell of Neil’s ear, and kissed the path left behind, until Neil was squirming and breathless under his touch.

Only then did Andrew think with his brain and not his dick long enough to have the presence of mind to get up from the bed and lock the door to the room, lest someone else from the party come upstairs with a similar idea.

Neil glanced at the door, like he’d forgotten where they were. Andrew could read into that disoriented gaze, the heavy stare of touch starvation. Andrew climbed back onto the bed and took Neil’s shoulders in his hands, pushing Neil down until he was lying on the bed and Andrew hovered over him, a hand on the outside of his shoulders. 

Andrew nipped at Neil’s lips, alternating harder pressure with soft kisses, slipping his tongue into Neil’s mouth, and grinning when Neil whined underneath him. Neil’s whole body tensed with need, and Andrew reached down with one hand, palming Neil through his jeans. The worn fabric was as soft as Andrew had imagined, but he was more interested in what was underneath. He flicked open the button and pushed down the zipper.

Neil went still beneath him and Andrew pulled back from kissing him to look into his eyes. He found curiosity and excitement in the depths of Neil's unwavering gaze, but the last thing Andrew would do was assume.

"Are you ok with this?” he asked.

Neil looked like his brain was short circuiting, like he couldn’t put two words together, so Andrew spelled it out for him. “Tell me no, and I’ll stop, no questions asked. I want this to feel good for you, so if it’s not your thing, I won’t hold it against you.” He rested his hand lightly on Neil’s cock. “Yes or no?”

The only delay in Neil’s answer came from him opening his mouth in silent want before nodding with a breathless, “Yes.”

But even breathless, Neil made a lot of noise. Andrew considered telling him to keep it down, but he didn’t want to discourage the lovely sounds. He kissed along Neil’s jawline and down the line of his neck, all the while keeping his hand steady on Neil’s pants. Neil tilted his head back, exposing more of the soft skin of his throat. Andrew worked him over, just enough tongue and teeth to have Neil writhing and needy underneath him.

Andrew stopped briefly at Neil’s exposed collarbone to lick and drag his teeth over the sensitive skin, rewarded with a gasp and a groan and a little involuntary press of his hips. Despite all of that, Neil kept his hands at his sides, where he’d grabbed little fistfuls of blankets. 

“If you want,” Andrew said as he lowered himself down the bed, until he was eye level with Neil’s boxer-clad cock, “you can put your hands in my hair.”

Neil nodded, but didn’t move his hands. 

Andrew tapped his hip, a wordless invitation for Neil to lift his hips, and Neil arched his back until he was off the bed just enough for Andrew to push down his jeans and underwear a few inches and then Neil’s cock was right there, inches away from Andrew’s mouth. Neil’s cock was just as pretty as Neil himself, pink and half hard already. 

With one last glance up at Neil and a heavily satisfied smirk, Andrew put his mouth on Neil’s cock. The heavy weight of the warm, soft skin pressed against Andrew’s tongue and teeth. He opened his mouth a little wider to accommodate Neil’s growing erection, and got to work sucking dick like it was his favorite thing in the world.

It helped that Neil had a gorgeous cock and Andrew had a touch of an oral fixation. And it certainly didn’t hurt that from the moment Andrew’s mouth was around Neil’s gorgeous cock, Neil’s breathing got even heavier, his cheeks going bright red as he breathed out, and sucked in deep little gasps that already sounded like he was losing control. Andrew didn’t mind at all; his pants were painfully tight at the thought that he could get Neil off this quickly. 

He paused though, slowing his speed for a minute, pulling back until he had only the tip of Neil’s cock in his mouth and pressing tiny, featherlight kisses to the slit. Neil’s cockhead was spit-shiny and spread with pre-cum; an invitation for Andrew to finish what he’d started.

Andrew took Neil deep in his mouth, working his tongue around him and not letting up until Neil was making some truly depraved noises. Andrew heard Neil moving his hands before he felt them, but a moment later, Neil’s fingers were wound through Andrew’s hair and gripping tight, like he’d lose control if he let go.

“Ahhhh,” Neil breathed out. “Andrew, I’m going to come!”

His fingers were still threaded through Andrew’s hair, not with force, just connecting the two of them. Andrew swallowed through Neil’s writhing orgasm, and stayed there, even after Neil’s breathing had evened out. Only when Neil slowly started to loosen his grip did Andrew pull back from his cock.

Andrew’s erection was heavy and straining against his pants, but he didn’t have the energy to take care of it right now. Instead, he got a tissue for Neil to wipe up with, and nodded to the little trash basket by the bed. He waited for Neil to pull his pants and underwear back up, waited until Neil had sat back up, and glanced at Andrew’s jeans with a questioning look.

“Not now,” Andrew said, and it was such relief when Neil nodded without a second glance.

“Just let me know,” Neil said, like that was just how it went. 

Andrew didn’t deserve him, but he wasn’t about to let go. A few moments passed and then Neil shifted, like he was about to say something.

"So… uh, do you like me?" Neil asked, his cheeks red but his gaze never leaving Andrew's.

Andrew considered kissing Neil again as an answer, but if an impromptu blowjob wasn't enough, another kiss probably wouldn't do the trick either. So Andrew picked up his phone, and, angling the screen so that Neil could see exactly what he was doing, he clicked on his tinder profile.

"Oh, you have tinder too?" Neil asked, but it was more of an automatic response than a true question. 

Andrew didn't reply as he waited for the app to load. A few seconds later, there was a random picture of a classmate on the screen. Neil looked at the picture, then at Andrew.

With a look that he hoped was meaningful, Andrew swiped left. The profile went into the ether and another one took its place.

Andrew swiped left.

Neil tilted his head to the side, starting to formulate a question. Andrew didn’t give him a chance to put words to it though, because the next profile had loaded.

"Hey, it's me," Neil said, staring at the picture on Andrew’s phone. 

Neil’s picture was a simple snapshot. Matt hadn’t managed to convince him to dress up for it, because he was in his trademark oversized t-shirt. Despite this, Neil had matched with Allison and Jeremy, and Andrew wasn't surprised; it would take someone with truly awful taste to not see past the ill-fitting clothes to see Neil's formidable personality and amazing body.

With his eyes firmly on the very real, very hot Neil in front of him, Andrew lifted his finger, placed it on Neil's picture, and swiped right.

Neil's eyes widened, just a touch, but enough. A moment later, his phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, staring at the notification for a half second. He pulled up tinder. Andrew's heart beat a little stronger, a little faster, as Neil lifted a finger.

Andrew lost himself in the unfathomable depths of Neil's eyes, refusing to break eye contact and watching with his peripheral vision as Neil slid his finger to the right. Andrew's phone buzzed, and Neil's phone played a little celebration animation, but neither of them were looking at their phones anymore.

Neil's gaze was on Andrew's lips and Andrew was suddenly warm all over, and thankful as fuck that he had gotten himself off before the party, or he'd be making some bad choices for himself in less than thirty seconds.

Instead, he held onto his self control just long enough to wrap gentle fingers around Neil's forearm, tilt his head toward the door, and ask, "You want to get out of here?"

Neil nodded with a warm grin. "There isn't anything I'd like to do more."

Flirting, not flirting, it didn't matter. Neil being Neil was all Andrew wanted. They could figure out the rest later.  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I would most gratefully appreciate your kudos and comments!!! Thank you for reading! Make sure to check out the other fics in the collection!
> 
> Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Mystrana_) and [tumblr!](https://mystrana.tumblr.com/)


End file.
